


Secret Adorations

by Anonymous



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Hot Springs & Onsen, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other, Sexual Fantasy, Translation Available, Underage Masturbation, Voyeurism, available, first time masturbation, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Fingon runs accidentally into Maedhros - and gets inspired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Adorations

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Тайный поклонник](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8507767) by [rio_abajo_rio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rio_abajo_rio/pseuds/rio_abajo_rio)



> thank you, [platinum_and_diamonds](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Platinum_and_Diamonds/pseuds/Platinum_and_Diamonds) for beta reading this story for me.
> 
> I am on tumblr, feel free to say hello

**Secret Adorations**

*****

Findekáno still doesn’t know if this is a trap they have laid out for him as he passes through Tirion’s great gate. All he knows is that he perhaps shouldn’t have asked Kánafinwë to being with. Too often was he seen recently around Maitimo; too often had he asked about his whereabouts; too often mocking gossip followed, much to Curufinwë’s delight (Findekáno never was certain if it truly was delight). Curufinwë, whom Findekáno suspects to be the original source of the lies.

He wouldn’t have asked Atarinkë.

He wouldn’t have asked Tyelko, either.

But this was Kánafinwë. Káno is different, Findekáno repeatedly tells himself, Káno wouldn’t play such poor tricks at his expense. That is at least what he hopes as he idly kicks a fallen branch off the path he walks on. When he left his home earlier today he told his family that he was going to visit Maitimo at Fëanáro’s home. Now he is already a good distance away from Tirion, somewhere in the surrounding forests. His father would not be amused – if he knew.

Luckily, he doesn’t.

Before Findekáno’s eyes even fall on Maitimo, his mind is already occupied with thoughts of him. When he isn’t thinking about archery and training lessons, and of his family, he thinks of Fëanáro’s eldest son; in friendship and something else he doesn’t truly understand. Something he has never felt before – a strange tingle in his belly, a warmth that is so different from everything he knows. Then again, he is his cousin, Findekáno tells himself, he is supposed to like him. (The fact that he doesn’t feel that way about Tyelko or Curvo he deliberately ignores. Indeed, Findekáno is good at ignoring things.).

Luckily, Kánafinwë’s description of where he can find Maitimo is precise: after the path comes a little stream, and after that another path, which he should simply follow. As far as he remembers, he hasn’t been here before as usually his father prefers different hunting grounds outside Tirion, which is something Findekáno is now extremely grateful for. He isn’t in the mood to meet his sire nor any of his siblings. He only wants to meet Maitimo today. The thought about his cousin makes him smile foolishly.

 _‘No trap,’_ Findekáno concludes when at last he reaches the clearing with hot springs on the other end. Nobody except for Maitimo is present, and involuntarily his heart begins to race in strange anticipation. Findekáno feels as if he hasn’t talked to Maitimo for a long while when in fact they just met recently.

Maitimo must have arrived only shortly before him, Findekáno thinks, as his cousin is just stepping down the natural stairs of the pool when he reaches the clearing. He is still too far away to see any actual details, yet he sees Maitimo’s chest heaving from the wonderful heat; despite the sunshine the air is still chill – and Maitimo is naked. Silently, and with wide eyes, Findekáno steps closer as Maitimo lets his fingers trail through the steaming water, forming them into little bowls to let the water stream over his face and chest before he sits down in the shallow pool.

Maitimo lets the warmth seep into his skin, sitting deathly still in the hot springs as his mind travels somewhere Findekáno wishes he knew. Like one of Nerdanel’s marble statues his cousin looks, Findekáno says to himself silently as his gaze wanders across Maitimo’s well-formed chest, muscles taut under his glistening skin.

He is incredibly beautiful, more beautiful than ever. For Findekáno it is as if he perceives his cousin entirely differently, sees him through different eyes. It is not as if he has never seen him undressing – or nude, yet it has never sparked anything like what he feels right now.

Findekáno’s mouth goes dry.

A strange warmth. A tingling feeling. Gooseflesh crawling over his skin. Excitement.

When his eyes reach Maitimo’s navel, he pauses there for a while, admiring the perfection. Looking further down would be extremely inappropriate. But then again, nobody knows that he is here. And he’s curious. So very curious. It is the moment when he makes up his mind that Maitimo begins to run his fingertips over his thighs, carefully and repeatedly up and down before they wander higher up and automatically Findekáno’s eyes follow in slow-motion, mouth agape.

An incoherent sound escapes his mouth and quickly he covers it with his hand. By all means, Maitimo mustn’t know that he is here.

Findekáno knows he shouldn’t intrude on his cousin’s privacy in such a shameless manner. He knows he shouldn’t stare.

Yet how should he now look away?

He feels a little giddy, a strange knot of something that is not quite tension settles low in his gut, and he grips the trunk of the tree so hard that his fingers begin to ache.

Excitement and guilt rush through him.

Never before has he seen something so enchanting, so spell-binding; he cannot look away and so he remains where he stands, hopefully still unnoticed. Findekáno knows that he shouldn’t be watching this, that it is weird and kind of creepy to watch his own kin in such a definitely abnormal manner. Yet he’s intrigued and feels his entire body heating up, being unable to tear his eyes away from Maitimo touching himself so sinfully.

He is so occupied processing the sight that he doesn’t even notice how, in response, his small cock begins to harden in his breeches. When he does, he can’t stifle the surprised ‘oh’ that escapes him, wondering about his body’s strange mysteries. For a while he has been waking up with soiled pajama pants on several occasions, yet never has anything alike happened whilst he was awake.

Carefully he edges closer, soon finding himself at the risk of getting caught as the bushes he hides behind aren’t completely dense. Findekáno knows well what would happen if Maitimo were to see him, yet what should he do? He’s magically drawn towards the sight his cousin presents.

His breath freezes in his lungs when Maitimo closes his fingers around his cock, moaning out loud at the too-long withheld restraint. Softly, he works himself beneath the water, elegant fingers wrapping around his length whilst his thumb digs against the head of his cock.

Findekáno feels hot and cold alike as he watches through the shrubs like an accursed spy. The gentle light of Telperion moves across Maitimo’s wet skin, catching itself in the tiny droplets that adorn it like fresh dew. It almost bathes him in an otherworldly glow. But then, Maitimo always has been somewhat ethereal to Findekáno. Even now, when he pleasures himself.

There is no impatience in what Maitimo does, as if he has all time in the world as languidly he strokes himself. Up and down, up and down. The repeated motion has almost a soothing effect on Findekáno, but then it doesn’t; in fact it is almost terrifying as Maitimo’s cock seems so big in comparison to his own much smaller one. Hard, and wet, and adorned with thick veins. It scares and intrigues him at the same time.

In silence, Findekáno wonders if the length is somewhat related to his hands and fingers as both are – well – extraordinarily large. Or his feet perhaps? Those are extraordinarily large, too. And scary. Findekáno has to bite back the snicker that threatens to fall. Or his nose? Well, his is average. So probably not.

Automatically, Findekáno’s hand slips into his breeches and he reaches down, closing his fingers around his cock, trying to mimic exactly what Maitimo does. The first touch makes his chest flutter, makes it actually heave in excitement. Until now, he has never touched himself before in such a way, and naturally his first clumsy touches end in disaster. It hadn’t occurred to him that perhaps opening his breeches would be a wise choice, or not pulling too hard. Silent curses spill over his lips, as what Maitimo does looks so graceful. And he? He is apparently too stupid to stroke his erection. His cock strains against the fabric of his garment in such an odd sensation that Findekáno has to bite down on his lip to remain quiet, and the sensation urges him to try again.

After a frown, he takes himself in hand again, this time more carefully with his eyes still fixed on Maitimo, mirroring everything his cousin does. This time, he succeeds and almost immediately a moan is ripped form his throat, with warmth flooding him. His heart rate quickens in surprise as he strokes over a particular sensitive area that feels so soft, almost like velvet between his fingers. Oh, he cannot remember when last he had felt so exquisite – and daring. Findekáno’s shoulders jerk as such a strange pleasure begins to soar through him, his entire skin feels tingly, wonderful.

Does Maitimo feel the same, Findekáno automatically wonders, and more importantly; about what exactly does his cousin think? Oh, he hopes it is about him, yet with all his heart he doubts it.

Maitimo’s eyes are closed in bliss and softly he mumbles something Findekáno cannot quite understand, something that is soon subdued by moans and gasps, filthy and shameless. Before young Findekáno knows what is happening to him, his hand frantically fists his cock and he allows his eyes to fall shut. He wonders what it would feel like if that was his hand on Maitimo, moving up and down until helplessly his cousin moaned and thrust up into his hand. Findekáno wonders, too, about how it would feel if Maitimo kissed him, touched him in places he has never been touched before.

 _But he is your cousin!_ His mind whispers traitorously. Findekáno dismisses the thought immediately; too good he feels, too good it feels to fantasize about Maitimo. 

So exquisite the sensation is that Findekáno wonders, almost sadly, why he has never tried it before. Why has Maitimo never told him about such wonders in his usual generosity? Well, perhaps because he is his cousin. Deliberately, Findekáno ignores that disturbing detail and pretends that he is not. In silence he hums in pleasure and his motions become faster, picking up Maitimo’s own frantic rhythm, trying to rub his thumb over the head of his cock. He nearly jumps from pleasure as his entire body stiffens. He can’t keep up the pace, he simply can’t – or otherwise–

It is too late already as the newfound sensation soon becomes too much for him to endure.

Maitimo’s hips snap forward as he shamelessly rocks and ruts into his hand, unable to maintain fluid strokes and idle touches. Indeed, his movements have lost their finesse a good while ago already, but right now his moans and gasps reach a seductive crescendo that lures Findekáno’s mind to places he has never explored. Every sigh, ever whimper falling from Maitimo’s lips arouses him further, makes his legs tremble in excitement.

_Maitimo._

Oh how he wishes it were Maitimo who touched him, who let his hand wander over his cheeks, his neck, his bruised lips.

He knows he should be happy with the friendship he shares with Maitimo. Why on earth does he wants more, so much more?

Findekáno finds it hard to breath and simultaneously his arm begins to shake due to the fast and frantic motion of his hand working his cock. What would happen if Maitimo saw him now, Findekáno wonders, saw him in his devastated state? Cheeks flushed, legs shaking, with his hand deep down in his breeches, a foolish smile adorning his face. Most likely he would never speak with him again, yet not even this thought stops him from what he’s doing. Instead, he forces his eyes open again; his vision is already soft at the edges, and it is hard to keep the focus on Maitimo touching himself in such a sinful way. This time, Findekáno cannot stifle his groan as his cousin sounds so beautiful like this, his moans like a melody against Findekáno’s damp skin.

Would Maitimo like it, too, if it was him sitting in the hot springs naked as the day he was born?

Would Maitimo feel the same awkward tingle in his abdomen if he watched him?

Would he feel inclined to touch himself as he watched?

It is the thought of Maitimo watching him that spirals young Findekáno high up into the sky where he has never ventured before. With blurred vision Findekáno collapses, his pulse racing as warm seed covers his hands and stains his breeches. Right now he cannot care less, savoring every second of the strange sensation that courses through him, relishing in the sparks of fireworks that explode in his mind’s eye. Perhaps he should be embarrassed by how quickly he tumbled over the edge, how inexperienced he is, but none of it matters right now. Not now when he can still study Maitimo’s blissful expression as his spine arches completely. Not now when he still rides the waves of his own orgasm.

When he catches his breath at last, he knows that he truly should be gone by now, yet Maitimo is by far more experienced in what he does, and a little whimpering sound is what gets Findekáno’s attention back to his cousin. He can’t leave. Not now, not with Maitimo being so close to climax. Certainly, he has never heard anything alike from Maitimo before, but then, he has never looked like this before, either. With his cheeks flushed and his eyes dark Maitimo frantically rubs himself, calling out the filthiest sounds into the humid air, and whilst one hand works his cock, fingers of his other hand catch his nipple and turn the stiff nub.

 _‘Ouch,’_ Findekáno thinks. _‘That must hurt.’_

Apparently it doesn’t, as the cry that follows is unmistakably one of pleasure.

Maitimo’s heavy lashes flutter open, revealing the dark and glassy look in his eyes. One that is almost yearning? But for what? Not for him, that much is certain to Findekáno, as Fëanáro’s eldest has many suitors. Yet for once, he can at least pretend that it is him of whom his cousin dreams. About his golden braids, his darker skin, about the innocence of his untouched body; of shy and awkward kisses. Findekáno’s cock begins to twitch again.

At the height of pleasure, Maitimo throws his head back, so sensually that Findekáno nearly jumps out of his hide. His lips are red and bitten, and his eyes roll uncontrolled as incoherencies spill freely past his lips. If only Findekáno could just catch what exactly Maitimo is begging for in the throes. Soon, words are drowned by moans anyway as he reaches his climax with a strained expression, almost as if he has to concentrate on what he does.

An expression which soon transfers into one of complete bliss and relaxation.

At last, Findekáno leaves. With the certainty that Maitimo’s flushed sight will never leave his mind.

Of course he is right, as late at night his cousin’s sinful cries still echo softly in the afterglow when Findekáno lies awake in his bed, hands sneaking between his parted legs.

*

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [If You Would Come](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795880) by [ChillinbytheFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillinbytheFire/pseuds/ChillinbytheFire)




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